Her name was April
by seriously em
Summary: The bathroom isn’t perfectly clean yet you know it’s too white. It’s too white to hide what you plan to do. Too white to mask the sins you’re yet to commit. One-shot, warnings inside


**A/N;**First time in the RENT fanfiction world. Kind of scary to be honest. Hopefully you will like what I write, hopefully you at least won't try and throw things at the screen wishing it was me.

So this story is just a small idea I got today. I watched the movie and then went for a walk, of course with my IPod and listening to the music just made me want to go deeper into the character of April. Be warned, this is not cute and fluffy, its angsty.

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**Title;** Her name was April

**Rating;**M for strong subject (suicide)

**Summary;** The bathroom isn't perfectly clean yet you know it's too white. It's too white to hide what you plan to do. Too white to mask the sins you're yet to commit. One-shot.

**Disclaimer****; **I don't own RENT or the characters or the lyrics. I only own the movie and too many soundtracks.

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**Her name was April**

_**Roger**__**. His girlfriend April left A note saying "We've Got AIDS" before Slitting her wrists in the bathroom…**_

You're strong.

At least that's what you try to tell yourself as you're sitting on the windowsill. You know that voice will soon be silenced yet you try to hold on to it. You want to believe it – you want to believe you can be strong.

Outside you can hear people yelling, you know there is a protest just down the street. You know that because that is where everyone is. You know that because that is where you're supposed to be. Yet you're not. Because deep down you know you're not strong.

You get up from the hard wooden seat. There is no rush, yet you can't help but glance towards the door for what, the twentieth time in the last hour? Paranoid much?

Pen and paper lies on the kitchen counter in front of you. You stare at it, trying to think out the right words.

Something sweet?

Something funny?

Something sophisticated?

…Something loving?

The end result is pathetic but it tells what it needs to tell.

'_We've got aids'_

You leave the note right there on the counter, only to go back and grab it. You know a better spot for it. Or maybe 'better' is the wrong word here. Maybe 'safer' is more appropriate?

The bathroom isn't perfectly clean yet you know it's too white. It's too white to hide what you plan to do. Too white to mask the sins you're yet to commit.

The shirt is the first item of clothing to leave your body but soon the rest follow. Even though it's now been quite a few minutes since you filled the tub the water hasn't gone cold. The warmth feels good and you allow yourself a few minutes with closed eyes – just soaking in the feeling.

But just like all good feelings they don't last very long and too soon the voices are back. The voices never truly leave you alone anymore. Not since that day. That day when you found out he gave you the worst of diseases. He gave you a death sentence. Thinking about it he is to blame for this.

No, you're to blame for this. This is your choice. Maybe that is the beauty in it, that for the first time in ages you are in control again. Not him. Not the voices. Nobody but you can be held responsible.

That is the last bits of encouraging you need to grab the tiny blade from the bathtub edge. First you just hold it against your right wrist. The cold blade touching your skin creates Goosebumps all along your arm. Then you press down and all you feel is pain…

Once the blade hits the floor next to your note a strange feeling of relief soars through your body. You can feel your arms going numb and you sink them into the water where they begin to color the water around you red. To stop the black spots from dancing before your eyes you close them…

You don't know how long you're lying there. Your mind begins to travel to the protest outside. Even through the apartment you can hear the loud voices from the street. The voices could belong to anyone but you know they could belong to Roger and all the others. A sting goes through you heart as you think of Roger and how you're leaving him behind. You know you're doing the best thing for you – you're just not sure it's the best thing for him.

He's strong though. He's not weak like you. He'll survive; he's got friends who will be there for him as does Mark and everyone else. They will understand in time.

You just hope that at one time they will forgive you. Even if you never managed that task yourself…

_**I **__**always remind people of - who is she?  
She died. Her name was April…**_


End file.
